The Foul Taste of Murder
by Venture Wood
Summary: What if EVERYTHING had gone as planned during "Point of No Return"? Including Erik's death? Will Christine ever forgive herself? Will memories of the Angel of Music ever stop haunting her? You'll have to find out for yourself! Rated T for slight violence.
1. Chapter 1

_I know I am already writing two stories right now, but I needed to get this one out of my head before I either exploded or spontaneously combusted. And it's either going to be a one-shot (I'll see how far I get and how much inspiration I receive) or a super short... series. If it is a "series", it's not going to be any longer than three chapters. Anyway, in this story I don't refer to the Phantom of the Opera as "Erik". I just think it detracts from the story and it's feelings... Don't know why, I, as the Author, just think it does. So I will refer to him as "Opera Ghost", "the masked man", "Red Death", "the Phantom of the Opera", or simply "Him". I will capitalize the "H" so you know when I am speaking of... well.. Him! ;) Besides, Christine never knows his real name is "Erik" and this is from her POV so it makes total sense! Enjoy! And I know it's short. It's kind of supposed to be._

* * *

><p>The Foul Taste of Murder<p>

Christine heard footsteps. She looked up from her father's candle and saw Raoul's handsome face looking back at her.

"Christine, it is now or never!" Raoul exclaimed.

"Raoul, I just do not know what I wish anymore... What if nothing goes as planned? What if he kidnaps me again? We will be parted forever, Raoul! I cannot bear that thought! Please, do not make me do this!" Christine was on the verge of tears. She was scared of the masked man, yet she also admired him. She did not know if she loved him or hated him. But for now, the only thoughts running through Christine's mind were that of being kidnapped. If she were, she knew she would never return.

"I assure you! Nothing will go wrong! Christine, please! Do it for me! Do it for all of those lives that have yet to be lost by his hand!" Raoul pressured.

"What if I do not wish to do this? What if I cannot bear the thought of killing a man in cold-blood? Why can't we just run-away instead?"

"And leave all of those other innocent girls much like you to his mercy? Christine, please! I am begging you! Do you not trust me?"

"I trust you Raoul..."

"Then you will do as I ask."

Christine thought about it some more. She wished she could refuse, but she knew she had no choice.

"Alright, Raoul. I will perform tonight."

* * *

><p>Christine stood off-stage watching Piangi perform, her heart racing, not because of the crowd, for Christine had overcome that fear long ago, but for her future. His future...<p>

Suddenly, a little too quickly, it was Christine's cue. She walked onto the stage singing her part beautifully and completely stunning the crowd. Finishing easily, she stopped to examine the flower just like rehearsed. She waited for Piangi to re-enter the stage and sing his part. She heard footsteps and awaited Piangi's voice. What she heard instead, was a voice beyond description. A voice she had heard somewhere before... _I know this voice, _she thought. Then, with a jolt of terror, she realized who it was. Looking up, she found she was right. _Him... _she thought. The Phantom of the Opera stood in the shoes of Don Juan, playing the part perfectly. Christine suddenly felt excited yet terrified at the same time. But his angelic voice quickly washed away the terror.

He finished his part beautifully and Christine found herself singing again. Quickly looking at Raoul to make sure he was there, she began the climb to the bridge, Red Death stalking her on the other side. They both reached the top and began singing in unison. She allowed him to flip her around and into his arms, silently enjoying it, for this was supposed to be the last time she would ever be with him.

The song ended, yet the Opera Ghost still sang. With a jolt, Christine realized he was singing "All I Ask of You". He flipped her back around, making eye-contact. She silently prepared herself mentally for what she was to do next: un-mask him.

"Christine! That's-" His song was cut short by a loud "BANG!". Immediately, the audience broke into a state of panic and chaos while Christine made the horrible realization that he had just been shot by one of the Policemen. Gasping, he staggered backwards, his hands holding his stomach were already turning red with the crimson color of blood. It appeared at his lips as well and dribbled down to his chin.

Christine had no idea what to do so she stood gaping at the horrible scene before her.

The last words ever spoken by the Opera Ghost, and words that would haunt Christine for eternity, were now choked out.

"Why?" He asked painfully, "I loved you... And you betrayed me..." And with that, Red Death tripped over the banister and struck the ground with a crunch. Blood already pooled around the dead body and Christine couldn't believe what she had just done, the foul taste of murder and betrayal resting on her tongue.

* * *

><p><em>Alright so this is going to be a "mini-series" if you will! The chapters will be short, just so you know, but they will be good so stay tuned! Tell your POTO friends about it! And it would mean the WORLD to me if you would review! Remember, I am still writing "Back to the Beginning" so don't forget to stay tuned for that as well! Yes, I wrote it short. It was supposed to be. Hope it leaves you hanging! <em>


	2. Chapter 2

_So, here's another chapter... For my one fan... Evening Starbossa... Ahem... Anywho, I hope you like it! I... Have nothing else to say... Other than I am still writing "Back to the Beginning", I just need to think about a couple of things... For the next chapter, anyway. I have everything else planned. Just stay tuned, alright? It should come... eventually. Enjoy this next chapter!_

* * *

><p>The Foul Taste of Murder: Chapter Two<p>

Christine sat motionless at her dressing room vanity, staring at the rose He had given her after her first performance. The flower had been managing to cling to life when He was alive, but now that He was not, the flower seemed lifeless, almost completely dead and wilted. Stroking the last life filled petal, Christine thought about all that had just happened.

Although she had been there when he had been shot, she could not believe he was really dead. He was a master of deception, a great one, indeed. Surely that must have been fake. He must be sitting at his organ right now, writing another masterpiece. But the more Christine thought of this, the more she knew it was false.

A knock sounded at the door, but Christine did not stir. Receiving no answer, Raoul cautiously opened the door and entered, thinking it best to stay in the doorway until she told him otherwise.

When Christine did not say, nor do, anything, Raoul took the opportunity to speak, "Christine, we had planned this out! You knew what was coming! Besides, you agreed to it."

Christine, with tears in her eyes, looked up at Raoul's face.

"I only agreed because I thought he would have something planned and would escape! Raoul, I-I..." Christine had no words to express the anger at herself and her fiance, the complete and overwhelming feeling of loss, and the desolation she felt. She just wanted to burst with all of the emotion that was bottled up inside.

"You would have been no happier if he had kidnapped you!" Raoul pointed out.

"How would you know?" Christine asked, anger straining her voice. He had no right to speak for her. "You are not me, Raoul! Maybe I've decided I would have been happier with him! Maybe I don't want your love anymore..."

Raoul was offended. _Why on Earth is she treating me like this? _He thought_._

"You don't want my love anymore?" His voice rising like a firecracker on New Year's eve, "What of the rooftop? I assume that was just a fairy tale? Nothing but a child's bedtime story? Christine, what has happened to you?"

"Nothing!" She stood up, her voice rising as well, "My mentor and almost second father was just killed by your hand!"

"Your's as well! You agreed to my plan and sang, distracting him long enough for the Police to shoot him. Besides! He was a VILLAIN, Christine! He has killed before! Remember Buquet? Do not tell me that you believe that was an accident, as well!"

"No, I do not! But he could have changed! I know it with all of my heart... People change, Raoul! With a little time, he could have been somebody completely different!"

Raoul laughed at this, causing Christine's eyebrows to furrow with fury.

"With time, my love, he could have killed us all and kept you for his wife! Trust me, Christine. His life was useless and it needed to end."

With this, Christine could no longer hold in the anger. She pulled her arm back and struck Raoul across the face, as hard as she possibly could.

"GET OUT, RAOUL DE CHAGNY! I WANT NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU! GET OUT!" Christine kicked at him and shoved him out of the door.

"Christine, what are you doing?" Raoul was completely awestricken.

"Getting rid of the worst mistake of my life." Christine said, sobs choking her. She slammed the door in Raoul's face and leaned against it, burying her face in her hands. Slowly, she slid to the ground and curled up into a ball, not even realizing she had done so until all of the tears had dried. She stared at the floor, a straggling tear still slowly gliding down her beautiful face, and tried to imagine what her life could have been like had she chosen to marry the Phantom of the Opera. And without realizing it, Christine had fallen asleep, the images she had imagined now swirling and twisting together to create a story.

She saw a small house next to the sea. It was fair enough in size, perfect for a small family, and was painted red. The front door was made of Pine and the window frames, as well. Suddenly, the door opened and a woman emerged with a small baby girl in her arms. Christine suddenly realized it was herself. She watched as her dream self looked back into the house and held out a hand. A three year-old boy emerged, as well, and took hold of his mother's hand. Christine preceded to watch as her character in the dream looked up to the small road, obviously searching for something. Then, with a smile on the character's face, she found it. Christine turned to see what her older self was looking at and found that she was looking at a man on his horse, riding down to the house. The dream Christine, as well as the boy, waved excitedly, almost jumping up and down for joy. The man slowed the horse down and dismounted, quickly running to his obvious wife and children. Christine watched as he embraced his wife and son. Then, he turned around and stared Christine, the real one, straight in the eye. Christine inhaled quickly and realized it was her Angel of Music. She continued to watch and found that her dream self and children found her gaze as well. They all stared at her, suddenly sad.

Then, He spoke, muttering the last words Christine ever heard him speak, "Why? I loved you... And you betrayed me!"

Now, He spoke words that equally would haunt Christine for eternity, "You could have had all of this! Yet you betrayed me... And I will eternally walk a lonely man."


	3. Chapter 3

_Alright, well... Read and Enjoy! That's all I have to tell you in this Author's Note! Oh yes, how could I forget? REVIEW! That would be nice!_

* * *

><p>The Foul Taste of Murder: Chapter Three<p>

Christine awoke with a jerk, hurriedly taking in her surroundings, making sure she was still on the floor in the dressing room. When she found that she still was, she sighed, and attempted to try and calm her breathing. She kept telling herself it was just a dream, but she couldn't calm herself down. Tears began spilling from her eyes again and her feelings just became more distraught.

Another knock at the door made Christine jump.

"Raoul, I thought I made it clear! I WANT YOU TO STAY AWAY!" Christine yelled through sobs, presuming it was Raoul.

"Mademoiselle, it is Madame Giry!" A woman's voice called from the other side of the door.

Christine quickly got up and opened the door, trying to hide and stopper the tears.

"Madame, I am so sorry! I just- Raoul was-..." Christine searched for words, but could not find any. Her mind seemed so scrambled since earlier that evening.

Madame Giry held up a hand to silence Christine.

"I do not need an explanation. You are having a tough time with Raoul, oui?" Madame Giry asked. Christine nodded.

"Then all is clear. I just came to find you. I needed to make sure you were alright. But as I now see, you are not."

With that, Christine could no longer hold in anymore tears. They burst out, followed by loud sobbing.

"Madame, I am a horrible woman! How could I agree to such a thing? I just killed a man! A man who meant no harm..." Christine said, the words flowing right from her mouth.

"Oh, Christine! What happened tonight was not your fault!" Madame Giry tried to have Christine see, desperately trying to have her calm down, and not burst into sobs herself.

"But it is! I agreed to Raoul's plan... I led him straight into the trap! He died because of me..." Christine heard His voice running through her head, again.

_Why? I loved you... And you betrayed me! You could have had everything! Yet, you betrayed me... And I will eternally walk a lonely man. _Over and over, the words repeated in her mind, just causing Christine to cry harder.

Trying to distract herself so the words would not bother her, Christine asked, "Do you miss him Madame Giry? Does his death cause you trouble?"

Madame Giry tried to remain calm, but she could not help it as she broke down, tears falling from her eyes and sobs threatening to break loose.

"Yes, Christine, I miss him... I always thought of him differently. Ever since I rescued him. I did not see him as the villainous Opera Ghost that other people saw. I saw him as a lonely, haunted man with nobody to support him. Nobody to hold him tight and whisper words of comfort when he awoke screaming at night..." She began to cry harder with that last statement. "I used to hear him... Hear him scream... It shattered my heart... It was such a lonely and melancholy sound. Much like the solo wolf's howl towards the full moon. A cry of anguish and despair..." Madame Giry sobbed.

Christine put her arm around the old woman and together, they cried long and hard.

"Madame Giry?" Christine finally said in a hoarse voice.

"Yes, child?" The Ballet mistress responded, dabbing away her tears.

"I want to see his body. One last time. I want to say good-bye and apologize. Apologize for everything."

"As do I. But I fear, they have taken it!"

"Who, Madame?"

"The Police. They took his body."

Christine stood from the couch they had collapsed into and hurried to the door, worry lining her face, "I must get it back! I need to bury him, myself. Properly. I do not want his body's fate in the hands of the killers themselves!"

Madame Giry stood as well and approached Christine, resting a hand on the prima donna's shoulder.

"Christine, it would mean the world to me, and I am sure him, but how are you planning to get it back? There is no possible way they will give it up willingly!" Madame Giry said to Christine.

"I will find a way."

"Child, please. You must see sense!"

"Madame Giry, if you loved him, you would help me."

Madame Giry sighed and pondered Christine's serious expression.

"Alright, alright. But how are we going to do this?"

Christine's eyes wondered to the ground and she studied it. She really had no idea how. She just wanted his body back.

"First, we must ask them where they've put it."

Christine opened the door and wandered out, Madame Giry following closely behind.

"Do you know where they have gone?" Christine asked the Ballet mistress.

"They should still be on the stage." Madame Giry responded.

Christine led the way and they quickly found themselves on the stage looking at a swarm of policemen. When one of the policemen passed the two women, Christine lightly grabbed him by the arm, trying to get his attention. At first he seemed to be a little annoyed, but quickly found his manners when he found he was looking at two beautiful women.

"How can I be of service to you two fine women?" He asked, removing his cap and bowing.

"We were inquiring where your Chief might be?" Christine asked him.

"He should be over there." The policeman replied, pointing to a short, round, red-faced man bellowing at one of the policemen.

"Merci, Monsieur!" Madame Giry thanked. The policeman tipped his hat and continued in the direction he had been heading.

Christine stood for a minute, her composure crumbling and attempting to regain it along with some courage. The man was obviously intimidating and she did not know if this was worth it. But Christine quickly regained her composure and found her courage. _Of course this is worth it. It is for him. He deserves it. _She reassured herself. With a deep breath, she made the long walk towards the Chief of Police, Madame Giry following quickly behind.

* * *

><p><em>Alright, thanks for reading! I hope it was a good chapter and that this story continues to intrigue. Thank you, Evening Starbossa, for being, so far, my only reader. And thank you, Erik, for reviewing the last chapter! And it wouldn't hurt me in anyway to give criticism, just for future reference. Thanks again! I should have more soon. <em>


	4. Chapter 4

_So here's chapter four! I hope you enjoy! And I suppose I should start doing this: I do not, nor have I ever, owned Phantom of the Opera. All credit goes to Gaston Leroux, the original genius, Andrew Lloyd-Webber, the musical genius, and Joel Schumacher, the 2004 movie genius. I'm sorry I had to do that, but I don't want to get into trouble. _

* * *

><p>The Foul Taste of Murder: Chapter Four<p>

"Excuse me, Monsieur?" Christine asked, approaching the bellowing man. He held up a finger as he continued to yell at the young policeman.

"Is that understood, Bellamy?" He shouted, spittle flying into the shaking policeman's face.

"Y-yes, Chief!" The policeman responded, stuttering. He bolted off before his superior could yell at him again.

The Chief's attitude immediately changed to a friendly happy one.

"Now how can I help you two fine women, today, hm?" He asked, all traces of anger gone.

"Yes, well, we were wondering if we could see... the body." Christine said.

"As do the newspapers and other public services. I am sorry, but that evidence is unavailable to the public." The Chief responded.

Christine's face fell and was about to argue when Madame Giry said, "What if I was family? His dearest Aunt?"

The Chief looked at her, astonished.

"He had family?"

"Yes, Monsieur. Only me, though. Nobody else."

Christine looked at her, confused for a minute, but she quickly caught on.

"Yes, and I am his friend! Very close friend!" She lied.

The Chief stared at her.

"I can see, from earlier's performance, that you two are very close..."

Christine nodded.

"Alright, I suppose I can let family and... Very close friends see the body."

The Chief waved a policeman down.

"Thiery!" He called.

"Yes, 'sir?" The man named Thiery responded, approaching his captain.

"Direct these two to the body. They are family. And, er, very close friends."

Thiery nodded and began to escort the two women to where Red Death temporarily lay. He opened the big doors and motioned for the women to walk outside. Shutting the door behind them, he pointed towards a tent guarded by two policeman.

"He's in there." Thiery said.

"Merci, Monsieur!" Christine and Madame Giry thanked. They hurried over to the tent and told the guards they had orders from the Chief to be allowed passage and if the guards had any questions with that, they should go ask him. The guards believed them and stood aside. Madame Giry and Christine looked at each other, quickly, before pushing aside a flap and entering the canvas tent.

The body was laid out towards the other side of the tent on a metal table. His body was still, thankfully, completely clothed and dressed up in his performance attire, mask included. Seeing His body made Christine's knees go weak and she collapsed into Madame Giry's arms.

"Oh, Madame!" Christine cried. "It is worse than I feared! I thought I would be able to handle it, but now I fear I may not!"

"We can always turn back, child!" the Madame said.

"Oh, but we can't! Madame, we must continue on!" Christine said through sobs, regaining her strength. Madame Giry nodded and together they approached the body.

His appearance was the same, but something felt different. Christine couldn't put her finger on it, but she knew something was different. Finally, she grasped it. He looked restful. He finally looked like he was getting the rest he needed. Finally, he could relax, for the taunting had stopped. The pain and nightmares had ceased. Finally, he was happy.

Fresh tears welled up in Christine's eyes when she noticed the big gaping hole in his stomach. The policemen had cut away the shirt around it and now Christine could finally see the damage she had done. A hole, as black as Hades' robes, stood right underneath his rib cage. She could now see the white part of his lower rib and the muscle around it; it made her sick. It looked like the Police had successfully removed the bullet, for whatever reason, because in a tray next to his body sat the instrument that had killed him. It was still covered in blood and she could see chunks of his muscle had torn off with it because it was also covered in that. Next to the bullet sat a dime sized white object. With a strike of horror, Christine realized it was part of his rib. Backing up, Christine collapsed onto a wooden stool. Her vision blurred and she felt like throwing up. Not because of the blood or the dead body, as many would think, but of the guilt that washed over her, with it bringing nausea. She wasn't able to help it as she wretched onto the ground beside her.

"Oh, Madame Giry!" She exclaimed miserably. "What have I done?" And with that, she burst into sobs.

Madame Giry also fell victim to the sad feelings that aroused her student and began to cry as well.

"Child," Madame Giry began, but the sobs overtook her throat, making it nearly impossible to speak. She attempted again.

"Child, he is in a better place. There, he will no longer be taunted. There, he can finally rest, nightmares no longer following him to bed."

"He could have lived, Madame... He could have lived... If I had only declined Raoul, he could still be alive..."

Madame Giry approached the crying girl and together they wept.

A few very long, very painful minutes later, the guards outside the tent entered.

"The Chief would like you two to leave, now. There is work that is needed to be done in here." One of the guards said. He, along with his companion, exited through the flap, before they could be questioned, and returned to their duties as guards.

The duo began to calm themselves down, wiping tears away and taking long, much-needed gasps of air.

"Come, Christine. The men have work to do in here." Madame Giry said, taking ahold of Christine's hand.

"Madame, we can't let them have him!" Christine argued.

"Christine! Do not be foolish! We cannot take his body away! It is now in possession of the Police. If we take it away, we could be put in jail." Madame Giry argued back. "I do not think He would be very appreciative of you throwing your gift away for his cause."

"I do not care if I get arrested! It will be for the greater cause! For his cause! And that cause, to what might be his mistake, is very great..." Christine was about ready to burst into tears again. Why couldn't the madame see sense!

The madame sighed. She wanted to help Christine, but she did not want the child to get arrested. Then, she thought of something. If, to the Chief and the rest of the police force, she were family, which she almost practically was, then they would have to give him to her once they were finished with it.

"I have an idea..." She said slowly and quietly.

Christine was confused.

"What?" The young ballerina asked her mentor.

"Christine, I have an idea!"

"Well, what is it?"

"Don't you see? If I am family according to the Police, they have to give him up to me!"

Christine was beginning to catch on.

"Then when do we- I mean _you- _get possession of the body?"

"I do not know. Let me ask the Chief. I will be right back, child!"

Christine nodded and Madame Giry slipped through the tent opening.

* * *

><p><em>Madame Giry's POV<em>

She hurried across the cobblestones and into the Palais Garnier Opera House where she quickly found the Chief. She waved him down and, still panting, began to ask for possession of the Opera Ghost's body.

The Chief began to think about it.

"Well..." He started, "I suppose since you are family, we would have to give it to you... Wave me down in three day's time and it is your's." And with that, the Chief whirled on his great heel and marched off.

* * *

><p><em>Alright, well, that's all I have for you for now! I hope it intrigued you! And don't forget to review, a'ight?<em>


	5. Chapter 5

The day was cold and the rain pattered incessantly upon two figures as they stood above a grave. The rain-drops of the cruel weather mixed in with the tears of the two women, their minds much too far away to notice the biting chill that blew through the air. They had paid for the plot of land and had managed to scrap together some extra money for a decent tomb-stone. The tomb-stone shape was plain and simple, but on the front of it held the inscription, as well as a crying Angel, holding a broken lyre and the body of a broken man, rain-drops coincidentally dripping from the eyes of the Heavenly figure.

One woman, the younger, was on her knees at the grave-site, unable to contain her grief and guilt. It was all her fault that this man had died before he had been given a chance... It was her fault if he suffered in Hell for crimes that could have been forgotten, had she given him the opportunity to do so.

The other, the older, was indeed crying, but not quite to the extent as her companion. A few tears drizzled here and there, but she quickly dabbed them away with a handkerchief before they were noticed.

"Christine, please get up off of the ground," the older reprimanded. "No matter her grief, a lady remains on her feet."

The younger, Christine, nodded, but could not find strength to stand. Her sobbing was boring into the older lady's heart, and the older could hardly stand it.

"Christine, grab hold of yourself! You are a lady! Do not forget that. Ladies do not cry uncontrollably over dear friends' deaths, no matter how tragic." Her eyes brimmed with tears and she choked on sobs. Managing to swallow them, she exasperatedly pulled the crying woman to her feet, brushing the mud off of Christine's black dress. "Please contain yourself. I will not allow you to die from grief."

"Yes, Madame..." Christine was put into a slight mechanical phase, answering questions when asked, but not really thinking her answers through. Her mind was far off. Somewhere, a voice was whispering through the wind, "I loved you, and you betrayed me" over and over again, repeatedly boring into Christine's heart, nearly taunting her to end the madness and join the voice in the clouds. Even in death The Masked Man had a way of capturing your heart, whether you wanted him to or not.

A hand fell onto Christine's shoulder and the Madame spoke, "I am dearly sorry, Christine... But I must be off. It is eight in the morning and the managers will be wondering where I am. If you need advice or help, do not hesitate to ask. Farewell." The Madame moved to leave, drying tears and holding in her despair, but a small, shivering hand shot into her own. Looking, she found Christine grasping it desperately.

"Madame, do you believe it is all my fault for his death?" Christine asked as desperately as her grasping. "I agreed to distract Him with Raoul before the performance."

"You would have had to perform no matter your choice in 'distracting'. It was the night of the performance! You could not have backed out if you wanted to."

"But I _agreed, _Madame Giry. It is not so much the happenings of my decisions to perform or not that grieve me and make me ask you whether it was my fault or not, it is the mere fact I _agreed_." Christine was not looking at Madame Giry, anymore. Her face was towards the inscriptions on the tomb-stone, reading, yet not registering. Her face was drenched with her own tear-drops, as well as that of the clouds in heaven, the rain-drops not really water, but tears of the Angels, crying for their brother who was lost in such cruelty.

The Madame's heart panged at the sight of her distressed student and near-daughter. She felt so much pity for the poor girl and her guilt. She gently laid a hand on the girl's shoulder and looked her in the eye, giving her the best smile she could in the present situation.

"Christine, it was not your fault. Do not believe anyone if they tell you otherwise. Even if it was, you still have time to change. Do you understand me? Read your Bible and seek forgiveness from the Lord. You are a religious girl, and you know this. If you seek deep within your heart, you will be forgiven and greatly comforted. Now, I really wish I could stay, but I do not like lingering feelings of despair and I have a job to get to. I really must leave. Take heed to my words, or not. It is your choice! Farewell, Christine. I will see you again at the Opera House." The Madame gave Christine a tight hug and left, quickly hobbling around tomb-stones, and hurrying through thick mud.

Christine turned back to the tomb-stone, agreeing the Madame was right, but unsure whether or not she believed she could be forgiven for such a heinous act. Her eyes read over the inscription, searching for answers.

"ERIK

FRIEND AND DEARLY MISSED, HE WILL BE REMEMBERED BY ALL WHO LISTEN TO THE MUSIC OF THE NIGHT. HIS GREAT ACHIEVEMENTS WILL FOREVER REMAIN IN THE HEARTS OF THE TWO WOMEN HE EVER LOVED. THOUGH TAKEN FROM US IN AN UNTIMELY FASHION, WE WILL NOT GRIEVE AND CARRY ON IN THE LIVES HE WOULD HAVE US PURSUE."

Christine had added the last line, greatly wishing to pursue in the career only He had made possible. She knew she wanted to, but she was greatly confused as to how she would do it. The only thing she was certain of was that she was going to perform on stage many times, no matter how hard it would be.

While she sat in despair and cold, a sudden warm hand touched her shoulder. Jumping, Christine turned to find a man she thought had left for good.

"Raoul..." she breathed, tears still stinging her face and her mind still befuddled by guilt.

"Christine, I'm so sorry... I made the wrong choice... I regret my actions and I hope you will forgive me, in your due time. I want to have you back in my life, even though I am undeserving of your innocent touch. Will you have me back?"

Christine was over-joyed. In all of this turmoil, Christine needed someone to be her foundation and anchor, and who better than the boy who she had first fallen in love with?

She flew into his arms and whispered into his ear, "Yes, Raoul... I will have you back..." Raoul smiled, hugging her tightly to him and kissing her cheek. Finally, the two broke apart, keeping contact in both of their hands. Raoul brushed away Christine's tears and shielded her from the tumultuous rain with his jacket.

"Raoul, before we carry on with our new lives, I need my Bible and some alone time back in my flat."

Raoul smiled. "As do I." Christine smiled, glad he agreed and was willing to admit his wrong-doings. They traveled through the grave-yard and into the carriage Raoul had taken, both quite regretting their misdeeds.

Though the Opera Ghost's words still ran through her head, Christine cherished them and silently prayed he would forgive her, wherever he was, and hoped that perhaps he would be the Angel of Music to her children, as well.

~FIN


End file.
